


Pity Statue

by confundedgryffindor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Depression, Gift Fic, M/M, and a swan, humble feel better gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22002904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confundedgryffindor/pseuds/confundedgryffindor
Summary: "She looks like a Maud, don't you think? She's got this right bitchy look that just screamsMaud.""It's a swan statue.""And yet, she looks like a Maud."
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	Pity Statue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stonecoldhedwig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonecoldhedwig/gifts).



> FOR KT, MY GOBLIN FRIEND. THE PRONGS TO MY PADFOOT, THE SOFTEST FUCKHEAD
> 
> i have nothing else to say i just wanted to write you a fic so i did it and that's it
> 
> huge thank you for meggie for reading this through and making sure that it was good enough. love ya meggeth

Remus had been in bed for four days, doing absolutely nothing. He had, of course, moved from the bed to the bathroom to do his deeds, and then from the bed to the kitchen, where he considered eating something other than yogurt and toast, before promptly giving up on that consideration and grabbing a piece of plain bread again.

His hair was greasy, his face bore a scruffy shadow of a beard, and despite the fact that he had spent most of these past four days sleeping, he still had dark purple rings under his eyes. Everything was, objectively, very shit. Laying under the covers for approximately twenty-three hours and thirty minutes of twenty-four a day, for four full days, listening to the same playlist of sad songs over and over, obviously didn't make matters better, and yet Remus found himself unable to find the energy to move outside the bleak four walls of his flat.

Sirius had called at least fifteen times, but Remus had only shut his phone to avoid listening to the ringtone, then fired off a brief text that read  _ i'm fine,  _ which in turn got him a series of  _ pick up the fucking phone you fucking fuck,  _ and  _ i love you,  _ and  _ i'm worried about you,  _ which Remus then promptly ignored until Sirius called again.

A part of him felt  _ extremely _ guilty for ignoring Sirius like that. Sirius, his  _ boyfriend _ whom Remus loved more than anything, probably, but an even larger part of him felt as though he wasn't only literally lying beneath a pile of blankets, but also metaphorically. A pile of wet blankets, even, that were impossible to breathe through and weighed him down so much that he just  _ couldn't _ talk to Sirius. It felt as though someone had dug a hole in his chest and expected him to breathe through it, to function as a normal human being because  _ some people have lost their limbs and can't feed themselves, Remus, a hole in the chest is nothing. _

So, in a zombie-like state he remained, sluggishly moving from the bedroom to the bathroom, then the bedroom to the kitchen, back to the bedroom where he curled up under metaphorical and physical blankets, desperately wishing that the guilt would wash off and that the hole in his chest would repair itself.

* * *

Remus was asleep when his phone rang again. Without looking, he answered the call with a swipe of his finger, and then put the phone on speaker.

"What?" It came out muffled through his pillow, and Remus turned his head to actually  _ look  _ at his phone.  _ Sirius,  _ the screen read, with the series of pink hearts Sirius had insisted should be next to his name. Well,  _ shit. _

"Oh, so you  _ are  _ alive, you fucking arse," Sirius said, crackling through the speakers.

"No."

"I'm outside your flat. Open the door."

Remus groaned. "No, fuck off."

" _ Rude.  _ Open the door."

" _ Fuck. Off. _ "

"You're making this  _ I'm impossibly in love with you  _ ordeal extraordinarily hard to believe in, Remus. Open the door or I'll call your landlord."

The words stung; adding onto the ache already present in Remus' chest, and he groaned again, moving to sit up. "Fine." 

" _ Thank you _ ," said Sirius, huffing out a breath, and managed to sound angry as he added, "I love you."

Remus couldn't do anything but hum, low in his throat, and rose to his feet. He shuffled over to the front door with heavy limbs, said, "I'm hanging up," then clicked off the call at the same time as he unlocked the door and opened it. It opened by two inches, then slammed in the small chain Remus had connected to the doorframe.

"Shit," he said, hearing Sirius snort behind the door. "Wait, shit, hold on." 

Remus closed the door again, slid the chain off the door and then opened it  _ again _ . He kept his eyes next to Sirius' head, staring at a stray strand of hair sticking out at a strange angle instead of at his face. "My flat's a fucking mess but I frankly don't give one flying fuck. Welcome in."

"Thank you," Sirius said. He stepped inside and toed off his boots with seemingly much difficulty, and Remus wondered why he simply didn't bend down to untie his boots before toeing them off. He actually looked at his boyfriend, then, and saw exactly  _ why  _ Sirius wouldn't— _ couldn't  _ untie his shoes.

In a firm grip of muscular arms and the squeaky material of Sirius' leather jacket which he refused to change out of, regardless of weather, was a  _ swan. _ A plaster swan, molded to uncanny accuracy.

"What the fuck is that?" Remus asked, staring at the lifesize plaster swan cardeled in Sirius' arms. A gigantic thing, really; the same size as Sirius' whole torso, with a green little faux grass patch, presumably there to keep the swan standing. Sirius shouldered past Remus, swan still in a firm embrace, and made his way to the sofa. Remus shuffled after, limbs still tired and heavy.

"This," said Sirius proudly, plonking down the swan next to Remus' sofa with a very loud  _ thunk _ , "is a humble  _ feel better  _ gift."

"In the form of a gigantic plaster swan?"

"In the form of a gigantic plaster swan, yes. Her name is Maud."

"Her— What the fuck? What— I—"

"Are you so touched by this humble gift that you're rendered speechless, darling?"

"No, baby, I…" Remus dragged his hands over his face, trying to rub off sleep and grease and the frustration that came with Sirius' impulse decisions. "Why the fuck did you name it  _ Maud? _ "

"She looks like a Maud, don't you think? She's got this right bitchy look that just screams  _ Maud. _ "

"It's a swan statue."

"And yet, she looks like a Maud."

"Not only have you bought me a pity statue in the shape of a lifesize swan, but you also named her Maud."

"It's a humble  _ get better  _ gift to spicy up the home, not a pity statue. And get over the name already, she's baptised."

" _ Jesus… _ "

"No," said Sirius. " _ Maud. _ "

Sirius gave the swan— _ Maud _ —a pat on it's plaster head, then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Remus, who couldn't do anything but return the gesture. He felt himself sag down a little, and burrowed his face in Sirius' hair, breathing in the smell of citrus and rosemary and  _ Sirius _ , feeling as though that very breath was the first proper breath he'd taken in weeks.

"I'm sorry for what I said on the phone," Sirius mumbled against Remus' shoulder. "About, y'know, having a hard time believing that I'm in love with you."

"Oh. S'okay."

"It was still rude."

"I literally told you to fuck off a grand total of two times, so I think we're even."

"That's true," Sirius said, and Remus could feel him smiling against his shoulder. "You smell like shit, by the way. Could use a shower."

Remus snorted, and felt, yet again, like he was breathing properly for the first time in weeks, smiling into Sirius' hair. "I could, couldn't I?"

"One hundred percent," said Sirius gravely, detaching himself from Remus. "I'll cook some food, or something, whilst you get all soapy and sexy in the shower."

"I'm offensively depressed, Sirius. There will be nothing sexy about my shower." Remus snorted again, taking deep, weirdly refreshing breaths despite the closed in air in his flat. 

"A lad can dream."

"I would rather you didn't."

"Oh, but I will," Sirius grinned and pressed a kiss against Remus' cheek, then pushed him in the general direction of the bathroom. "There's nothing sexier than a distant depressed gaze and crying that could come from depression  _ or  _ soap in the eye, no one will ever know."

"Shut the fuck up," Remus laughed. He felt the steady thrum of his heart beating up against his ribcage, and as he moved to the bathroom, he didn't shuffle in a zombie-like state, but  _ walked.  _ Properly. 

Love didn't fix everything. Remus knew that. But it seemed to make everything a bit easier, just for a bit. He knew that soon, he'd most likely be back in his zombie state, feeling a hole in his chest and breathing with so much difficulty that it felt like he was breathing through a straw. But right now, right this very moment, Remus let himself smile under the steady shower stream; laugh when Sirius smacked his bum when he emerged from the bathroom with messy curls and a towel wrapped around his waist. He let Sirius force him to eat the bowl of pasta and tomato sauce from a jar, joking and smiling as they ate.

It didn't fix everything, but the gaping hole in his chest seemed to shrink, if just a little bit.

* * *

Sitting on the sofa some time later, Remus ran his hands through Sirius' hair, casually looking at the swan— _ Maud _ —standing on the other end. It did look like a right bitch, as Sirius had said, and as it stood there, unmoving as plaster swans should, Remus couldn't help but to smile a little.

"Thank you for the pity statue."

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed yeyewowow


End file.
